Necropsy
by PB Headless
Summary: After vanishing for several weeks, Merlin arrives back in Camelot with a baby.
1. Necropsy

**Necropsy**

Merlin/Freya, Arthur/Gwen. Set when Arthur is king.

* * *

Arthur paces the room. He carries his long strides until he meets a wall, then turns swiftly to continue to the other side. Guinevere is sat on their bed, nursing their daughter, who is just weeks old. She is attempting to ignore him, immersing herself in her duty as a mother, thinking how insufferable the king would have been whilst waiting for news of their children's births, absently wondering if their stubborn son is bullying the cook into giving him yet more food. It wouldn't surprise her.

Finally, the rhythmic thump of his boots cease, and he whirls around to face his wife. "Where do you think he's gone?"

She inhales slowly, drawing her eyes up to meet his. "I honestly don't know, Arthur. Perhaps he has gone for a walk."

He goes back to his pacing. "A walk? I don't know any walk that takes three weeks."

No wonder the servants are avoiding him, she thinks, bringing her eyes back to the baby, Merlin's new found habit of disappearing randomly has driven Arthur into intolerable states.

It seems like a century has passed before there is a hollow knock upon the door. He crosses the room, throwing open the door to reveal a terrified servant on the threshold.

"Yes?" He demands, as if the boy had interrupted a very important trail of thought.

"Sire," he starts with nervous bow "The warlock Merlin has returned, sire. He is just on his way to his chambers should you -" He is shoved aside meaninglessly as the king whisks past. "- want to see him." He finishes pointlessly, for Arthur was already halfway down the corridor.

He looks to the Queen, who simply smiles at him and says "Thank you Geoffrey, my apologies for his behaviour."

* * *

"Merlin!" Arthur bursts through the door, large hands throwing the oak aside so it teetered on its hinges. His eyes trail through the mess of a room, finally distinguishing the skinny frame amongst the mess. Said figure straightens up, vaguely alarmed by the stormy entrance.

"Were you going to go straight to your chambers without even greeting me first?!" Arthur rages, waving his arms in exasperation "Without telling me where the hell you've been these past weeks?!"

If Merlin looked guilty, it was because of secrets rather than his mysterious absence. He opened his mouth but was cut across by Arthur.

"You missed the birth of my daughter, Merlin. My daughter!" Arthur practically screamed "What if Guinevere had fallen ill? She could have died and you were off gallivanting somewhere in the forest!"

Merlin took a deep breath, guilt replaced by a strange form of anger. "You know I wouldn't have gone it unless it was absolutely vital."

Arthur aimed a groan of irritation towards the floor, raking a hand through his thinning hair and settling back on his hind legs. Merlin started rattling through his mismatched belongings, leaving Arthur to maul over this new piece of information.

Arthur watches Merlin achieve the impossible by making his chambers even messier then before. He steams for a while, eyes trailing over the piles of junk. Spell books, unlabeled potions, odd crystals and, propped up amongst this jumble sale, a bundle of cloth which had definitely not been there before.

Curiosity ruling above all, he stepped closer to the bundle, hoping to get a better look. Whatever it was hidden in the mess of fabric appeared to be alive.

"Is that -" Arthur paused, distinguishing a shape very familiar to him "- Is that a baby?"

Merlin barely looks up from his quest "You should know. You have two of them."

For once, he is speechless. He peers, somewhat fearfully, at the bundle. A pair of deep brown eyes levelly watch him back, a cross sort of expression on its chubby face having found the source of the racket.

"Where did it come from?" he plucks up the courage to ask, absorbing the tiny form, chunky cheeks tinged with red, puckered lips and smooth skin.

Merlin shrugs briefly "Well, when a man and a woman love each other…" even though his voice is barely heard as he upsets a pile of books, there is a twist of humour in it.

"Oh for god's sake Merlin, I know about that stuff!" Arthur snapped, "Just –" he considers telling the imbecile to shut up, but the words are replaced on the way to his mouth "- Why do you have a baby?"

"Well," Merlin arches back up from underneath the rubble, stretching out his back "I figured I'd better look after him, seeing as he's my son and all"

Arthur gave a sort of anguished cry. "Merlin!" He threw up his hands in frustration "Explain what the hells going on!"

The baby had finally had enough of all this yelling, choosing to unleash its fury by wailing intrepidly, purple faced as restrained fists beat for freedom. Merlin yelped, sucking air in-between clenched teeth and battling his way over to the infuriated child. Swearing profoundly, he seized the bomb and clutched it to his chest, desperately jogging up and down. His attempts were fruitless, so much so that Arthur found himself striding over and plucking the child out of the moron's arms. With trialled patience, The King soothed Merlin's son with abilities he would never admit to a single soul. The cries subsided, and, relieved, Arthur looked up at Merlin's haggard face and found he couldn't be angry any more.

"He's too young to be away from his mother, you know" Arthur confided, carefully depositing the baby back into Merlin's arms. Merlin gave a calculated sigh, not looking at his best friend.

"His mother died in childbirth." He states, ignoring Arthur's choke of horror. "But it doesn't really matter." He sighs "She was kind of dead before."

Somewhere in the back of Arthur's mind a tiny, purple faced King Uther beat his fists and screamed of sorcery. Arthur still couldn't help that initial thought despite how much more informed he was now. "What do you mean?" he says instead, oozing with suspicion.

"I don't even know" The other man briefly closed his eyes as if to focus his mind. It hadn't really made much sense to him either "But she's definitely gone now."

"Oh." Was Arthur's only response.

"Yeah." There was that grim smile again, the one that Arthur was beginning to hate.

"Did I know her?"

"Not in the state I knew her for." Merlin replied, his voice strained. "You might have known her as the Lady of the Lake -" he doesn't wait for the flicker of recognition "- or as the cursed druid girl from so many years ago."

Arthur tries to put a face to words, conjuring the image of the Lady of the Lake. He'd thought she was an illusion at the time, the young, pretty face at one with the water, shimmering beneath slight waves. She gave him Excalibur. He then tries to remember a druid girl. He recalls Merlin mentioning her before, something about helping her escape. It had come up once, in passing, though when pressed for more information he gave none.

"Her name was Freya." Merlin supplied, staring at the baby as if looking through it.

"I'm sorry for your loss" Arthur says, somewhat hollowly, wishing he hadn't asked. Merlin simply nods, Arthur takes it has his cue to leave.

Just as he reaches the door way, Merlin calls his name.

"Would you…?" He starts, his face showing such intense desperation Arthur is momentarily afraid. "Would you be his godfather?"

Arthur takes a deep breath. "Of course." He tries not to register how vulnerable Merlin looked. "It's the least I could do."

The pale man gives a weak smile, gratification words couldn't oblige. Arthur bows his head in deference and turns his back on the scene. Merlin looks down at his son, a warm little body caught in sleep, and can't help but think just how much he had yet to learn.

* * *

It's nearly 11pm, but I just had to finish this :) Thank you so much for reading this, I've been wanting to write this for some time now and I'm fairly pleased with how it has turned out. This is my first Merlin fic, but I hope it is not the last.

Thanks again :)

~Zoe

EDIT// After some thinking and a (honestly not hard) desicion that my textiles coursework can wait, i'm going to continue this story. Suggestions are very welcome!


	2. Fallen

Yes, yes, I said it would be a one shot but then this idea came to me...

* * *

**Fallen**

The trees sigh in the light breeze, lulling on this lazy day. Merlin lies on the bank of a lake, propped up on his elbows gazing into the water. He whispers, "Freya" then waits a moment, "Freya!" He repeats, watching the water intently.

For a moment, the water is just as still and glassy before, penetrated only by wading birds feeding in its depths. Then, there is a ripple. A figure rises up from somewhere beyond the lake floor. At first, you can only see her head, pale with deep, deep eyes, and then her bare shoulders appear, slicked with her dark wet hair. She is streamlined, sliding up and out of the water, not burdened by the seaweed so determined to keep her in its clasp.

"Merlin!" She beams, striding forward and seizing him in her arms. He lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, burying his face against her shoulder.

"I still worry you wont show" He states, clinging to her like lovers only can.

"Silly," She smiles, enjoying the feel of his breath so close "You should have more faith in me"

He grins against her shoulder "I can't help it, there's just something so unreal about all this."

"I know." She sighs, stepping back from the hug so she can see his face. He looks away from her, as if ashamed.

"I just thought I'd never see you again…" he whispers to the water playing at his feet.

"Merlin, must we go through this every time we meet?" She smiles bravely, cupping his cheek in her cold hands and staring meaningfully into his eyes. He relented, leaning forward and kissing her. She gives a satisfied grin, looping their hands together and leaning her forehead against his. "Tell me news of Camelot, how is Gaius? And Arthur, and Gwen?"

He raises his eyebrows, looking back at her with his signature mischievous grin. "Oh, and you don't ask how I am?"

She smiled playfully, sinking into a sitting position and leading him to do the same "I can't just assume you are fine?"

Merlin laughed, leaning back on his arms and studying her attempted look of concern. "I just fine." He confirmed "Well, as fine as you can be with Arthur yelling at you at the time. You'd think since he became king he would have better things to do then boss me around."

She mimicked his sitting position, smiling as she imagined Arthur striding around, barking at servants and calling Merlin a moron.

"But he's been on better form since he found out Gwen's pregnant." Merlin grinned. "Well, to me. He won't let Gwen out of his sight!"

Freya let out a gasp of delight. "Gwen's pregnant?"

"Yup," he beamed, "It was inevitable. Arthur's going to be a father, you should have seen his face!" He listened to her pretty laughter, delighted to be such company for her. "Everyone's hoping for an heir. I don't think he cares though."

"And he shouldn't!" Freya scolded, "It shouldn't matter whether it's a girl or a boy."

Merlin smiled to himself. "Arthur's more worried about Gwen, he handpicked three of the finest knights to follow her around all day. He was going to go for eight, but she had a go at him."

Freya laughed, and, it seemed for both of them in that very moment, whilst the wind played with the wild flowers and fishes shimmered in the light, it seemed to both of them that today was perfect.

* * *

"Arthur." Guinevere looks him sternly in the eye, hands on hips. It's still a fierce sight to behold, even with her pregnant belly just beginning to show. "I'm just going for a walk."

He husband seems caught in indecision, partly wanting to lock her away and care for her every need for the remaining how many months and partly wondering how he would achieve such a feat. Especially with the look she was giving him now.

"Just along the river front, to get some fresh air. It's midday out there and besides -" she huffed, chucking her thumb over her shoulder "no-one would even think to attack with these damn knights following me around all day." the knights in question look sheepishly out from behind her.

Arthur was already quite aware he had lost. "Sympathize with me Guinevere, if anything should happen to you…"

"Nothing will happen to me!" Gwen blurted, "it's the river front! In broad

daylight! With Camelot's finest stalking me all the way!!" To her shock, tears were actually beginning to well in her eyes. "I just want to get out of the castle and just have some time for myself!!" She wailed. Her personal knights exchanged worried looks.

"Okay, Okay!!" Arthur wrapped an arm around her, cursing himself for dragging it this far. It was the river front, it was more than safe. "It'll be good for you to go out on this lovely day." He gestured, his smile not compensating for the alarm shown in his eyes. "So you go out and have a nice walk," he steers her down the corridor and towards the courtyard. "Okay?"

Guinevere gives a heavy sniff, wiping her eyes and giving a weak smile. "Okay." She reads the concern in his face and smiles slightly because of it. "Seriously Arthur, I'm okay."

He gives a brave nod and she turns away. Once she has nearly crossed the courtyard, he turns to the knights. "Well? Go follow her then!" They shuffled off after her "And be more subtle!" He yells after them.

* * *

She's aware she's being followed. But right now she finds it hard to care. She figured she should be getting used to that slightly uneasy feeling, seeing as she had had it constantly for the past month or so. Guinevere sighed, treading the well worn path of the river bank, thinking about how life had changed.

She would be one of the maids, washing on the other side of the river, had it not been for Merlin. Had Merlin not thrown Arthur into her life in a way many servants did not experience. On that thought, she wondered where Merlin had got to. He always seemed so busy now, always on some endless quest for this, that or the other. She smiles. The sun was shining and she was out in the fresh air. She wasn't the only one believing that today was perfect.

She's so lost in her thoughts, she trails further than she meant to, reaching the part where the river mouth widens into the grand lake. Looking up in mild surprise she registers how far she has come and is just about to turn back when she notices a couple in the distance.

Young lovers, she can't help but smile, watching them talk and laugh under the ebbing sun. She and Arthur used to be like that. No, that was wrong, they were still like that. Just with the added weight of the kingdom on their shoulders.

The girl is sitting in the tide, seemingly oblivious to the water pooling around her, the boy, sitting opposite on the shore, looks at her with pure adoration. It's a private moment. Gwen turns to leave.

She doesn't walk far before she hears Merlin come up behind her.

"Gwen?" He jogs to catch up, looking oddly ridiculous with his ever large ears and messy black hair. His boots squelch and his is soaking from knees down.

"Oh hello Merlin, I didn't see you there." She smiles, welcoming the sight of the bedraggled warlock. "Where have you been?"

"Washing his royal pratnesses' socks for all you know" Merlin cheekily retorted. "Arthur never lets you out of his sight, did you drug him or something?"

Gwen scoffed, pushing on his arm "I didn't, thank you very much. It was much easier to just to knock him out. Anyway," she scowled at Merlin, who was hunched up laughing "I believe that 'royal pratness' you talk about is my husband" She put on her most serious face "I could put you in the stocks for that."

"I'd love to see you try!" Merlin spluttered, running ahead.

"Uh!" Gwen protested, hitching up her skirts and running after him. "That's not fair! I'm in a dress!!"

Merlin just laughed, throwing his head over his shoulder to watch the Queen flounder after him. He slowed for her, amusedly noting the knights also running to keep up in the undergrowth not far away.

She reached him, panting. "Merlin!!" She moaned, steadying herself on his shoulder. "I wasn't going to ask before but you've wound me up now." She crossed her arms over chest, looking straight at the warlock who paused, his interest caught. "Who was that girl you were with?"

Merlin scoffs, but immediately looks away, face flushed. "What are you on about?!"

Gwen grins, she had taken a shot in the dark but suddenly everything seems to be adding up - his mysterious absences, the couple by the bank. "Ahh so there is a girl!"

"I never said there was!" Merlin snapped, moodily shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay, okay!" Gwen raised her arms in defeat. "You don't have to tell me anything!" she started walking again, Merlin trailing after like a lost puppy. It was really getting dark quite fast.

They walk in silence for a while, Camelot peering up over the horizon. It's only after they reach the castle gates that Merlin turns to her and says.

"Her name was Freya."

It only occurs to Gwen a while after they have parted ways, that Merlin said 'was.'

* * *

:O and Gwen knows!(ish)


	3. Agatha

**Agatha**

"Merlin…" Arthur's voice seemed to float over the young warlock's mind, unnoticed amongst scattered thoughts, stifled worries and smatterings of concern. He was long lost in his head. "Merlin?" There it was again, probing, interfering…

"MERLIN!" The King thumped the table, glaring. "Would you pay attention?!"

His eyes would have drifted open if they had been closed, but either way the slightly simmering image of the great hall drew out before Merlin's eyes. It took him a little while to work out where he actually was.

"Sorry, Ar- Sire." Merlin stammered, gradually recognising the faces of irritated court members surrounding him. "I must have got distracted."

"You must have." Arthur gave him a steely look, his voice dry and far from humorous. "Now, I have no doubt that you've missed most of this meeting so rather than bore everyone by repeating it especially for you -" on those words he smiled forcibly at Merlin, daring him to say something "- I'm bringing the meeting to an end now, we can reach a decision tomorrow."

Merlin spluttered, "Tomorrow?! Ohhh no, I can't do tomorrow" He garbled fearfully "I asked for leave remember? I need to go tomorrow, it's very important to me!"

Arthur growled, stalking the length of the table and pinning Merlin's arms behind his back. "Not now Merlin." He hissed in the boy's ear. He forced the lanky body upwards and out of its seat, frogmarching him towards the door.

"Meeting adjourned. I will send messengers regarding times tomorrow." The King strained over Merlin's yammering, his voice official. He didn't bother look back to see the council's agitated faces, he just stormed through the grand oak entrance, Merlin clamped alongside him.

Arthur swept out of the hall, easily throwing Merlin against a nearby wall and watching him sink to the ground. "THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE, MERLIN!!" He roared, eyes on the cowering figure at his feet. "CAMELOT IS UNDER THREAT OF WAR. APPARENTLY IT'S TOO MUCH FROM ME TO EXPECT YOU TO CARE!!"

"I'm just need to go on this trip tomorrow," Merlin gasped back, eyes streaming as he levered himself up, clutching his head with one hand. "I promise when I come back, I will pay attention."

"It doesn't matter," Arthur growled. "Magic or otherwise you are no use to me distracted." He ploughed on, "I do not require your presence at the meeting tomorrow. A meeting that prevents me from relieving my pregnant wife from our son, who I don't get to spend enough time with as it is."

Merlin gritted his teeth. "Fine then, I'll leave tonight."

This threw Arthur. "What?"

"Well, if you have no use for me then I can go now." Merlin sniffed, eyeing Arthur "I said it was important that I leave as soon as possible and you led me to believe that I had to wait for tomorrow. But if that isn't the case -"

Arthur looked down at his feet. "It really is important, isn't it."

A flicker of Freya crosses his mind, and Merlin nodded.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know. A week at most."

Arthur looked at his former manservant. His face was pale and drawn, almost sallow. It was Arthur's turn to nod, an understanding formed.

* * *

The lake seems dull, a shimmer lost, the surrounding plants drooping. Wading birds no longer visit its shores so it remains lifeless. Weeds grow estranged and overgrown, creeping along the worn path and up the trees, thriving off the death of flowers.

Merlin fights a tugging branch before he stumbles onto the scene, leaves tangled in his hair and scratches defacing his skin. He wastes no time in walking to the bank, concern aging his face.

"Freya. It's me, come up." He calls, standing awkwardly at her feet.

There is a pause, slightly more deliberate than before, as a form rises from the water. It clogs in her hair, gripping at her shoulders and begging her to remain in their comfortable grasp.

"Merlin, you came" She smiled, a ghost of the young druid girl she used to be. Her eyes are dark, smoothed with the shadows of her face.

"Of course," he sighed, still finding her breathtaking. "But I'm just stopping by to tell you I'm getting help."

"Is there any point?" Freya's dark eyes search his face. "I'm already dead, Merlin, there's little that can be done."

"I refuse to accept that." He spat back.

Freya simply nodded. There was no point in trying to fathom what was going through his mind or attempting to reason. This was the stubborn Merlin she fell in love with.

"I'm going to find a cure." He told her. "I'll find someone to help you at least." She was too tired to worry for him, to tired to reason. She sank beneath the surface with the parting words "Just know when to give up, Merlin."

* * *

The isle of the blessed was just as he remembered it. Same crumbling castle ruins and lapping sea front. Same odd magical vibe that hangs in the ever present mist. In fact, all it was missing was one hell-bent priestess.

Merlin stepped off the phantom boat, trying to ignore the ominous clinking of the bell at its stern. He walked into the pinnacle of the mist, nerves rattling and hoping his face doesn't speak of his emotions.

"Hello?" He tries, as he did before. It was all too similar to before.

"Hello Emrys." A calm voice surrounds him, and he turns to face the newcomer. An elderly woman sits in a throne, milky blue eyes wandering over his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He swallows, absorbing the sight of the little woman, slightly lost in a swathing blue robe. She chuckles slightly, feeling his stare upon her.

"My name is Agatha. I have taken over as guardian of the Isles" When he says nothing in return, she continues. "Its quite a lonely job, despite that magic is now legal. Which I believe is owed to you."

"Freya is ill." Merlin cuts her short.

"Indeed" The little woman nods calmly.

"But she can't get ill – she's a spirit."

"Now Emrys, she may be a spirit, but as you know she's still very much human, just bound to the Lake." She blinks, her unseeing eyes seemingly reading him like a book.

Merlin felt his face flush. Freya was very much human.

"I need to find a cure." Merlin stated, suddenly feeling very ashamed. "I didn't know where else to look."

Agatha nods. "But there is not a cure Emrys -" she pressed on despite his gasp "- nor is she ill."

"But – the nausea, the dizziness… she gets so upset, I refuse to give up!" He blurted, clenching his hands, desperation coursing through his voice.

"It's funny, I 'd thought you'd have some experience dealing with pregnant women." She replied serenely, milky eyes still fixed on him.

"What are you talking about?!" He yelled in frustration.

"Freya's pregnant." Agatha smiles oddly.

"Wha – she can't be pregnant! That's not possible!" He yelped, eyes wild with emotion.

"You probably thought a lot of things weren't possible before you met her." The old woman yawns.

He ignores her "But it's impossible! She's dead! Why are you telling me this?!"

"Because it's the truth." Agatha presses, growing weary of his theatrics. "She's pregnant and just a little further on than your friend Gwen to give you some timescale."

"You're lying!"

"I am not." She closes her eyes, resting her head back onto her plush throne. "I have told you what I know and now you must leave."

Merlin shook his head slowly, breathing erratically. "It's just not possible."

Agatha tuts, eyes still closed on the brink of sleep "Don't hear a word I say, do you, boy? All powerful warlock or otherwise you should show some respect." She continues to mutter, words twisting into magic. She fades away, cloudy eyes still staring until there is no trace she was ever there.

Merlin falls to his knees, oblivious to the tears sliding down his chin. He didn't know what to do.

* * *

I'm thinking of one more instalment. Anything you want me to clear up/write, just say


	4. Forever

Hey guys :) Yeah, sorry for the wait. GCSE coursework and whatever other excuse I have lying around. This actually took quite some time to write, i'm still not completely satisfied but it's okay.

**Warning: Contains scene of childbirth**

**

* * *

**

**Forever**

There is a wonderful numbness in the water. It supports her swollen body, it filters away her pain. Freya rarely comes to the surface now, not for the peasant boys who loose their belongings in her streams and sometimes not even for Merlin, who seems to be in an odd kind of stance. He sometimes doesn't even call for her, sitting at her banks with a permanent expression of shock. She sighs, closing her eyes and letting the gentle currents massage her. For a moment she can forget about all her troubles.

Somewhere far, far away, Kilgharrah lets out a strangled cry. The Great dragon twists his body, tail following soon after and shattering the looking-ball on the harsh cave wall. His pile of treasure also flies, disrupted by the scaly form. A witch gasps, jumping back from the huge creature.

"That was my grandmother's looking ball!" She exclaimed, chewing the fingers of her moth-eaten gloves.

"And a pitiable copy, no value at all." He scowled at the rags, teeth bared. "You may go."

She let out a shocked little gasp, only slightly more pronounced than her already ragged breath. "But what about my children?"

The dragon narrowed its golden eyes, before scraping the floor of his cave and picking out a topaz with his large claws. There was a pause, where he held it up for inspection, bemusedly watching the hungry witch through the shimmering centre. Then, he flung it at her, disgustedly turning his back.

The rags shuffled backwards, clutching the gem and streaming unheard words of gratification.

Kilgharrah stewed sourly. So the lady of the lake was pregnant. Very pregnant in fact, if the looking ball had any truth to it. He knew who was responsible for this.

"AGATHA!" He roars, drawing out the final A, letting it ring around the shallow cave. It upsets the rock, splintering shards from the immortal walls. As the hollow rattled with his cry, the elderly woman materialises into sight, chair and all.

"M'lord." She offered a short nod of the head, her clouded eyes searching over the spot she presumed the Dragon to be.

"Tell me, Agatha," His scaly voice was venomously calm. "Why is the druid girl pregnant?"

The shrivelled being gulped, but that was her only sign of unease. Her voice was clear in reply "I was fulfilling my half of our contract, Kilgharrah."

"What part of our contract involved a bastard child?!" He snapped, teeth glinting in some distant light. "I ordered you to kill her, not give them a child!"

"I was merely abiding by the rules, Kilgharrah. To take a life you must give a life and vice versa."

"The whole point of our contract was so that Merlin was not distracted from uniting Albion! How is a child not a distraction?! Agatha, his destiny does not contain an heir."

The old woman shifted in her chair, eyes downcast on flaking hands. "The rules of the Old Religion are to be followed, Kilgharrah."

He scowled. "So bless a peasant with a babe and be done with it."

"The life must be of equal value" Agatha pressed, now looking piteously at the scorned dragon.

"She was a mere druid, barely magical."

"She is a lake spirit, blessed with a second chance at life after her untimely end. She has value in her duties to the lake." The body in the throne suddenly seemed older than ever, her voice ebbing.

Kilgharrah sulked. "You're annoying me, Agatha, remember I can back down on my half of the deal."

Her whole posture shifted, eyes alert. "But she will die, m'lord, thus completing my half!"

"MERLINS DESTINY DOES NOT INCLUDE AN HEIR!!" The Great Dragon exploded, tail swiping furiously in the restrictive cavern.

Agatha sunk in her throne. "There is nothing I can do but call the birth."

Kilgharrah moved his head very close to her, hot breath steaming over her "Very well, call it. We will see who the Old Religion chooses to favour." He spat "If they value destiny, both shall be killled."

* * *

Freya's eyes snap open. There is pain. So much pain. She twists, writhing to the surface and calling Merlin's name.

Nearby in Camelot, her lover awakens, panic stricken and leaving in the dead of the night.

As he runs from the security of the castle, he fails to notice a figure in the grand window. Arthur, tousled hair and crumpled clothes, calms his young son and watches the warlock flee. Even in his state of comatose, the sadness on his face is evident. The king turns, toddler in arms, to Guinevere who stirs.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" She murmurs, shielding the soft light from her eyes. He sighs, slipping the young prince into a cot before stepping into bed.

Genevieve turns her head towards her husband and entwines their fingers, despite the restrictions of her heavy pregnancy. There was a mere week or so left on her body clock. She speaks again. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Merlin's gone again." He breaths, calm blue eyes devoid of emotion. He is simply too tired. "After weeks of fidgeting, unexplainable bursts of emotion and unannounced absences, he leaves in the dead of the night."

All Gwen can do is nod, as the tips of slumber start to embrace them both again. King and Queen sleep while the Warlock weeps.

Freya had transformed before. The sheer pain of wings splicing from her bones, and claws digging from beneath her skin seemed mild in comparison to this. She screamed as another contraction squeezed through her, clutching Merlin's skinny arm with everything she had. Sweat trickled from his forehead as he crouched over her inhuman form, eyes golden with magic as he fought an unknown source.

There seems to be no time at all before another wave of pain courses through her. She flounders in the water and wading birds quickly change direction away from the lake. She shudders, breath caught, blinded by pain.

"You can do this, Freya" Merlin gasps, sobbing now. "You can do this" He kisses her shoulder, eyes no longer golden.

She weeps openly, this would never end. Another contraction steals her words away and the knuckles clutching Merlin's shirt are ghostly white.

"I don't want to die Merlin" She finds herself uttering, her whole body shaking, convulsing in the daybreak. His eyes are wide and she reads his immense fear. He shakes his head, but she can't hear his words because she's screaming again.

She unscrews her face, brown eyes on blue. "I promised I'd keep you from harm!" Merlin howls, fresh tears seeping.

In both their alarm she barks a laugh, "No-one could have kept that promise, Merlin." She hurries, another, yet final contraction ripping through her.

She catches a fleeting glimpse of his broken blue eyes as she throws her head back in pain. And time slows. The sun rears its head over the soiled water and the sky is golden like the eyes of Emrys.

Freya gasps, hearing an unrecognisable cry. It suddenly seems unfair, after all she had been through, that she should leave like this. It wasn't fair the first time, the 'fatal' wounds seeming petty now. It wasn't fair that she was given another chance at life, an undead existence that taunted both of them of what could never be. It really could never be now. She dies with that sad thought in her mind.

She looked like she could be lightly sleeping. Merlin had raised her body from the soiled water and placed her on the shore, water no longer claiming her. He cleaned her clothes with a flash of gold, and then the lifeless lake and the shore line until there was hardly a sign that such a horrific birth had ever taken place. He didn't dare to look at the fragile little body cradled in his arms, afraid he would throw it away like a murderer disposes of a gun.

She was very pretty, the coldness of death having not engulfed her body just yet. Her dark hair was slicked back with water, running trails over the sand and curling around her arms which were spread-eagled in the bank. A stolen dress sagged around where her stomach had swelled, the extra maternity needs provided by her warlock, and her small bare feet were the only part of her pruned after years underwater.

Merlin took a long look at her, calculating, measuring, remembering. Then, freeing an arm from the creature curled against him, he muttered magic as it came and her body disapparated into ashes. The ashes then rose into the air, swirling and playing in the morning breeze, falling over the place where she had been most happy.

* * *

The royal guards march into Ealdor, Pendragon flag flying and the good news fresh on their lips. The villagers cheer after they announce the birth of the new princess and celebrations rise up in the street. Merlin doesn't join in, but leans against the doorway looking on, son in his arms. It's been ten days since Freya died, but it felt like an eternity. Camelot had been long forgotten. Hunith, meanwhile, had understood and helped all she could, devoting long hours to teaching Merlin basic parenting skills, which washed over his zombie-like state.

He returns to Camelot a week or so after the news, face no longer shrouded in tears but grim and accepting. He doesn't bother greeting Arthur, or gushing to the side of the new princess, but busies himself testing excuses in his head, knowing he would have lots of explaining to do. Lots of it.

For the first time, he looks at the alien in his arms. Properly looks. It has flawless skin, a solid peach with the exception of flushed cheeks. The eyes are no doubt Freya's pools of eternity. The creature is small, smaller than Merlin ever thought possible and his tiny face looks up at the warlock with an earthly expression. He finally recognises his son.

Time had stopped to appreciate the moment before moving sluggishly on. Merlin turns away, thoughts of blankets and baby stuff filling his head.

That's when Arthur bursts in.

* * *

:K i hope the childbirth bit was okay - having never been in it myself it wasn't easy to write.

I'm unsure of whether I should write any more - does it feel concluded to you? I have enjoyed writing it - it's very cathartic and an absorbing time waster.

Eitherway,

**Thank you so very much for reading!  
**


	5. Aftermarth

**Aftermath**

_So this is their version of babysitting_… The Queen smiles, dusky skin still light with eternal youth and unburdened curls falling free. She steps around the door of the royal nursery and patiently leans into a nearby wall, looking in on the scene.

Toys were scattered everywhere. They were an odd mixture of new and old; Dog-eared teddies with lolloping heads, untouched dolls from some long forgotten lords and a pewter dragon, breathing fire over the delicate occupants of a dolls house.

In the centre of it all, Arthur and Merlin are sprawled carelessly, propped up by a large cot. Arthur's head is lightly rested on the other man's shoulder and neither seems to mind.

She grins, absorbing the sight. They had been closer than ever since Merlin released the exclusive details behind his son's birth. There was a pleasant companionship between them, no longer troubled by deep running secrets and disentangling lies.

Finally, Arthur stirs, finely tuned to his wife's presence. He gives a cat-like groan, digging deeper into Merlin's neck before shooting up quickly, registering who he was actually sleeping on.

Gwen hid her smirk and raised her eyebrows, arms crossed. He gulped like a fish for a bit, whilst Merlin came around.

"We did not fall asleep." Arthur finally manages to say, looking suitably adorable with his messy blond hair. He wasn't even convincing himself.

"Really?" Gwen steps over to help him up. "Then what were you doing?"

He gratefully takes her hands, leaving Merlin to sit there looking confused.

"Babysitting." Merlin reeled, mind not quite caught up.

"Then where are the children?"

Both men stand now, eyes growing with fear as they simultaneously found ways to blame each other.

"He fell asleep first!" Arthur accused.

"He was supposed to keep an eye on them!" Merlin faced Gwen, eyes wild with fear.

At that point, a cry rears from the cot, quickly joined by another. The Queen rolls her eyes, strutting past the befuddled men and plucking the Princess from the cot. Merlin comes to, rushing over and lifting his son out as well.

"Oh thank god." Arthur gasps, running over to her side.

Gwen just laughs, toppling the babe into his arms and going to the door. "You two have another hour, I was just checking in on you." She strolls out the door, throwing over her shoulder: "You'd better be awake when I come back!"

Arthur and Merlin look at each other, a look of doom clearly reflected between them.

**FIN.**


End file.
